Marty Returns
by Westing1992
Summary: A person from Greg's past shows up again, seeking to make amends.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is a follow-up to my fanfic 'Reminiscing'. Although this story can stand on its own, it is still recommended that you read that one first._

 _I do not own Steven Universe._

* * *

"Okay, ready?" Greg called to his son.

Steven put his hands out and caught the wet sponge that his father threw. "All right!" he said in celebration. "Okay, now you!"

Steven tossed the sponge. Greg scrambled to grab it, but it slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground. "Welp, butterfingers," he joked.

"Hey, dad! A car!" Steven yelled, indicating the vehicle, a red sedan, that was pulling up to the car wash.

"Ooh, a customer!" Greg said. He glanced at the license plate. "Oh, and an out-of-towner at that! I don't get many of those." He approached the driver as he was exiting. "Hi, and welcome to 'It's a Wash'! How can I—" He halted as he recognized him. His eyes narrowed. " _Marty._ "

"Uh, hi, Greg," Marty said. He looked more or less the same as did in the picture Greg had showed his son; then again, he had looked fairly old even back then, with his silver-gray hair and bags under his eyes.

"Why are you here?" Greg said accusingly. "Actually, never mind. I don't care." He turned to walk away.

"Wait, please hear me out," Marty pleaded. "Look, I know you must hate me for everything I did," he said, "but I came back here to let you know that I want to apologize. I don't want anything from you, I'm not trying to scam you or anything. I don't even care if you forgive me. I just wanted to say that I am sincerely, honestly sorry."

"…oh," Greg responded, taken aback. "Um… apology accepted, I guess?"

Marty let out a big sigh. "Whew, I can't begin to tell you how much of a relief that is." He noticed Steven. "Who's this?"

"I'm Steven, his son," Steven said. "Dad's told me about you."

Marty hunched down so he was at his height. "All good things, I hope."

"Uh, no," said Steven apologetically. "They were pretty much all bad."

Marty winced. "Yeah, I guess that's understandable." He stood back up and turned to Greg again. "So, uh… how old is he? Ten, eleven?"

"Fourteen."

Marty looked at Steven again. "Huh. Well, I don't really spend much time around kids. So, is the mother that one girl, or…?"

"Rose? Yeah, she's the mother."

"You two still together?"

"Well… she had to give up her physical form to have Steven, so… no."

"Oh," said Marty. "That's… an odd way of putting that." He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, uh," he said. "I guess that's all. Bye." He started back to his car.

"Wait," Greg said. "How about a wash before you go?"

"Um, I don't really need one…"

"It'll be free of charge."

"Sure, okay," said Marty. "No, wait, I said I didn't want anything from you, so if you wash my car, I'm going to pay you for it." He fished a few dollars from his pocket. "Actually, wait. Since I don't actually need my car washed, I'll just pay what it would cost and you don't have to do any work."

He tried to hand his money over, but Greg refused. "I'm not just going to take your money, Marty," said Greg. "If you want to pay for a wash, fine, but I'm not going to take money for doing nothing."

"Hey, I wasn't even thinking about getting my car washed until you suggested it. This will save you water, time, energy, and you'll still get paid!"

"I don't want your money!"

"Fine!" Marty shouted. "Then this is to pay for the stupid car wash!" He thrust the bills into Greg's hand.

"Fine!" Greg shouted back, pocketing the money.

"Hey, you wouldn't know what happened to Vidalia, would you?"

"Actually, yeah," Greg said. "She had her kid, got married, had another kid. She still lives around here."

"Could you tell me the address? I'd like to see her too. Apologize for… well, you know."

"Oh! I can show you the way!" Steven said. He strode off, an uncertain Marty following behind, leaving Greg to start on the carwash.

* * *

Steven led Marty through the town to the house of Vidalia, Onion, Sour Cream, and Yellowtail. He knocked on the door and Vidalia opened it. "Oh, Steven!" she said. "You want to have a playdate with Onion?"

"Not this time," said Steven. "Instead I'd like to reintroduce you... to someone from your past."

He stepped aside and revealed Marty, who gave a timid smile. "Hi, Vidalia."

"Marty?" Vidalia said in surprise.

"Yes, it's me," said Marty. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has," Vidalia said suspiciously. "What, exactly, made you come here after so long?"

Marty sighed. "To be honest, guilt," he said. "I did a lot of scummy things to a lot of people when I was younger, including you. I know I could never make it up to any of you, but I was hoping that maybe apologizing would make me feel a little better. I know it's selfish. Sorry."

"Oh," said Vidalia. "Well, I appreciate your honesty."

"Right." He stood there awkwardly. "So, I heard you got married."

"I did, and to a very good man, too."

"That's good to hear." He paused. "I guess that's everything. Bye."

"Hold on—how about you stay for supper first? It'll be ready soon," Vidalia said. "You too, Steven."

"I don't want to impose…" Marty started.

"Nonsense! I always make more than enough food, and I think that meeting you would be good for the kids, if you've truly reformed like you say."

"What about your husband? He won't mind me?"

"Well, he's out to sea at the moment, but I can just tell him about it when he returns. He'll understand."

"Wait, he's not home?" Marty said, surprised. "But what would he think when he finds out? I mean, inviting your ex to dinner when he's not there… I mean, I guess I'm technically your ex.

"Maybe _you_ would get jealous in a situation like this, but Yellowtail trusts me, and moreover, I've told him enough about _you_ for him to know that there's no _way_ that anything could happen between us. Because there isn't."

"Er, right," said Marty. "Alright, I'll stay."

"Wonderful!" Vidalia said cheerfully. She jabbed a finger in Marty's face. " _Don't_ make me regret it."

"I won't, I won't," Marty said.


	2. Chapter 2

"So," said Sour Cream, "You're my _real_ dad?"

"Well, biological," said Marty.

The entire household, minus the father but plus two guests, sat at the kitchen table, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Well, except for Onion, who was merely separating the individual noodles and lining them up on his plate.

"If I wanted to become, say, a DJ," Sour Cream continued, "what would you think about that?"

"Cream…" said Vidalia warningly.

"A DJ?" said Marty. "Erm, sure, if you really wanted to."

"Sweet," Sour Cream said.

"So, Vidalia," Steven said, "Have you finished any paintings recently?"

"I have, in fact!" Vidalia said. "And now that Amethyst models for me in person again, I think they've gotten even better!"

"You paint? Really?" said Marty. "When did you take that up?"

"About five years before I met you."

"Ah." He prodded a meatball on his plate. "Well, we met that day, went to that party, and then we barely interacted afterwards before I left town. I didn't have much time to get to know you."

"You didn't even _try_ to get to know me."

"Right. Yeah."

Vidalia sighed. "Okay, that's not fair. It's not like I bothered to ask you about yourself either. And come to think of it, I still haven't bothered. You basically know what I've been up to, but what about you?"

"It's not really important," said Marty.

"No, come on! Tell us!"

"Oh, okay. Well, after Greg left, I managed a couple other acts. Pretty much screwed them over too. But I looked the members up and tried to make amends with them as well. Some understood, some were still mad… and I can understand why they were mad. But then I cleaned up my ways! I signed a couple bands and really nurtured them, and it's great! I mean, they're not huge or anything, but it feels nice to actually help them and not just take advantage of them."

"You're in the music business? That's really cool!" said Sour Cream.

"Yeah, but it's also pretty hard now that I actually, you know, _manage._ But it helps ease my conscience. Kind of like this trip has."

"Well, I'm glad you turned your life around," Vidalia said. "Say, does anyone want any more spaghetti?"

The people at the table shook their heads.

"Then I guess supper's done! I'll clear the table." She started picking the plates up.

"What about your son?" Marty asked, indicating Onion. "I don't think he's taken a single bite."

"Well, Onion's a bit of a picky eater. I'll put his in with the rest of the leftovers and then take care of the dishes."

"Do you need any help?" Marty asked. "I could—"

"No, I've got it," Vidalia said. "It's not like you live with us or anything."

"…Right," said Marty. "So… I guess I'll be going, then."

"Wait!" said Sour Cream. "Why don't I show you my turntable skills?"

"Um, okay," Marty replied, and he was led by his estranged son to the basement.

"But what if he can't find his way back to the car wash?" Steven asked aloud.

"Well, that just gives you time to play with Onion!" said Vidalia.

The lights flickered ominously.

"Well, looks like Sour Cream's turned his equipment on already," Vidalia said. "Now run along; this will be easier without distractions.

Onion grabbed Steven's hand and pulled him along.

"Alright, Onion," Steven said resignedly, "what disturbing horrors-slash-heartwarming gestures does your room hold this time? Lead on, and I'll… oh, we're going outside? Cool."

Onion sat down on the lawn and gestured for Steven to sit next to him. Steven complied. He waited for Onion to do something, or give some sort of indication for what to do next, but he just sat and stared. Time passed; Steven slumped down to the ground; more time passed. Eventually, he got fed up of waiting.

"Okay, Onion," he said, getting up. "I was prepared to be mildly traumatized by your behavior, but this is just boring!"

Onion, however, had disappeared.

"Onion?" Steven said nervously. "Did… did you go somewhere? Was I supposed to follow you? You're not going to appear suddenly and scare me, are you?"

He was startled by someone exiting through the garage, but it was only Marty. Steven was about to announce himself, but Sour Cream came out right afterwards, calling after his father. "Hey, come on!" he was saying. "There's like, a dozen more songs I can show you!"

"No, it's getting late. I've got to back to my hotel the next town over."

"Okay, then maybe you could come back tomorrow? Mom doesn't seem to mind you being here that much."

Marty paused. "Well, um… this was sort of just a one-time thing. Just going around to all the people I've wronged, seeing if they forgive me. And well, I've wronged a lot of people. So I need to go."

"But Dad—"

"I'm not your Dad!" Marty shouted. He sighed. "Look… I don't love you. I know I should, but I don't. You're basically just the result of a mistake I made twenty years ago. Staying with your mother would have been the right thing to do, but let's face it, I wouldn't have made a very good father anyway. And I wouldn't be a good father now either. Yes, I don't care if you want to be a DJ, but don't confuse my apathy for support! I don't care about you being a DJ because I don't care about _you_! Your stepfather, on the other hand… He may not understand who you are, and he may try to make you be something you're not, but from what you've told me, he's doing it because he wants you to have a happy, successful life. His idea of what that means and your idea might not be the same, but at least he makes the effort to be involved in your life. That makes him a thousand times a better father than I will ever be. And besides, seeing your father only once a month is better than seeing him once every twenty years."

Sour Cream looked down and sighed. "You're right," he said. He looked back up and hugged Marty.

Marty quickly pushed him away. "Hey, now, don't—don't make this any more awkward than it already is."

"Right, sorry." He noticed the boy on the lawn. "Steven! Were you spying on us?"

"Er… spying would imply that I was actively trying to hide from you," Steven said.

"Okay, whatever," Sour Cream said, heading back inside. "Marty's ready to go back now."

"Certainly! I'll escort him!" He walked away in the direction of the car wash, Marty following. On a whim, he glanced back; in front of the house was Onion, waving good-bye.

* * *

"There you are!" Greg exclaimed as he saw Steven and Marty return. "I was thinking that maybe you'd kidnapped my son! And honestly, I'm not sure if I'm joking or not."

"Hey, I was never _that_ much of a jerk!" Marty groused. "Vidalia invited us to stay for supper, and then her son showed me some of his DJ skills."

"Onion has DJ skills?" Greg asked, befuddled.

"Not _that_ son!" Marty said. "The other one! The older… taller…" He paused. "You know, the one I sired."

"Oh!" said Greg. "Well, uh, that's nice to hear. Anyway, I washed your car. In fact, I washed it twice! Which in retrospect was probably a waste of water considering it didn't even really need washing in the first place—"

Marty held up a hand. "Don't worry; I'm sure it's fine."

"If you say so."

Marty climbed into his car. "Well… good-bye," he said.

"Bye," Greg said.

"Bye," said Steven.

The two of them watched as Marty drove off.

"Huh," said Greg. "I guess it just goes to show that anyone can change. I mean, he's still not perfect, but he's much better—"

He stopped, startled by Steven unexpectedly hugging his side.

"I love you, Dad," he said.

Greg leaned down and hugged Steven back. "I love you too, son."


End file.
